3rd World Products, Book 17 (21 page)

She set her coffee down, stood up, and held out her hand as she said, “And now I’ll see you to the door as a friend, if that’s all right with you.”

What was he gonna do? Not shake her hand?

When he took her hand, her other hand closed around their grip and she said intently, “I mean it, Frank. No backstabbing office games. You’ve done a good job and you’ll get a good review.”

Looking up from their handclasp, Frank said, “They’ll want to know why you’re transferring me.”

“For the same reason that brought you here. Back then I needed a crypto, so Stevens sent you. Corbin needs one for his project, so you’ll probably go there. Right now I need someone who knows space. This satellite thing will probably land on my desk this week.”

With a somewhat jaundiced expression, Frank asked, “Because you know that guy?”

She chuckled, “Partly, I’m sure, but also because I spent some time with SATCOM. I was monitoring some of those commo satellites fifteen years ago.”

Myra guided Frank to the door and reassured him again as she ushered him out. After retrieving her cup and pouring another coffee, she went to her desk and poked a few numbers on her phone.

When the after-hours machine answered, Myra said, “Allen, this is Myra. Do you have anybody who really ought to be working at NASA? It’s about satellites and I’m trading in a crypto.”

There was a click and a man said, “Hi, Myra. There’s a guy who actually belongs to a rocket club in Greenbelt. I’ll see if he’s available. Good enough?”

Sipping coffee, Myra leaned her butt against her desk and said, “Only if he’s available. I expect something to land on my desk this week. I’ll send my crypto down Monday morning.”

“Frank Lewis. I remember him. How’d he work out?”

“Hand him anything coded and he’ll get it done. If he had an idea or a reservation, he wasn’t afraid to share it. And if he knew anything at all about what’s in near Earth orbit I might keep him, but I’ll need someone who knows that stuff
now
, not a week from now.”

Marty said, “Yeah, I hear ya. Okay, I’m on it. Anything else?”

“No, that’s it. What are you doing here on a Saturday?”

“Taking up slack. Half my staff is packing for Utah.”

“Ow. Are you going?”

“Not if I can help it. How about you?”

She chuckled, “Not if I can help it. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it. Gotta go, Myra. Later.”

“Okay. Later, Marty.”

Poking her phone off, Myra looked around the desk once, then reached through the probe for something. Her arm withdrew and her hand held a piece of yellow paper. Putting it in her blouse pocket, she set her coffee down and slipped on her jacket, then finished her coffee and set both used cups by the service.

Letting the probe vanish, I headed back down to the house. As I entered, Marie glanced up and said, “Hi,” then returned to reading.

Someone else might have asked how things had gone with Myra, but Marie had always been pretty single-minded. She’d finish what was in front of her first.

Taking a seat on the couch, I linked to my orbital core for a look at progress with the space cleanup project. Hm. The two clumps of debris were beginning to look sort of shaggy with all the odds and ends adhering to their surfaces. A shining basketball-sized sphere drifted into one of the clumps and stuck to it. Several long antennae crumpled like heated cellophane and wadded up against the sphere.

Within the other clump, a rocket motor exhaust had been used to collect a large assortment of junk. I formed a ten-foot reflective field, then made it concave. As I tightened the solar focal point, vapors rather explosively escaped some of the assembled items. Something within the clump exploded, causing an outward bulge of junk.

After a time I’d managed to bore a shallow hole into the mass. Melted metal and slag seemed to slide away inside the cluster. I expanded the solar reflector until the melting zone was a yard wide. When I canceled the field a few minutes later, there was a hole the same width reaching deep into the clump.

Hm. This method could take a while. A much larger reflector would speed things up, but there was no point in melting stuff now. It would all have to be melted together later.

Footsteps behind me brought my attention back to the living room just as Marie stopped by the couch. She stood looking down at me for a moment, then parked her butt on the arm of the couch.

With a slight shake of her head, she said, “Ed, I can’t believe how much was in those files. Some of the smallest details, things I wouldn’t have bothered to report. It would take days to read them all.”

“Yeah, they’re fairly thorough.”

“You’ve seen them?”

“No, but I’ve seen mine. Prolly not much different.”

Marie nodded understanding agreement and moved to sit in the sofa chair. A few moments passed as she looked out the porch doors, then she looked at me and spoke very softly.

“Reading that made me feel like I did when I first retired, Ed. Like I didn’t really belong out here among… regular people.”

Sipping my coffee, I said, “You’ve gotten past it before.”

She swirled the stuff in her own cup, then sipped. After a moment of staring into the cup, she sipped again, then said, “I don’t want to get past it again. I was never really happy out here, Ed. Something was always missing, you know? And now Tanya’s grown and I’m not… I’m not old and crippled anymore.”

Did I need to make some kind of comment? No. She had her answer already. She just wanted to talk about it a bit while she locked it in. I put my feet on the coffee table and gave her a grin.

Her gaze narrowed. “What are you grinning about?”

“They’re gonna put you back through the Farm, y’know. Or something much like it. You’ll be running your ass off and learning new tech and tactics for the next year or so, just like a raw recruit.”

“You think that’s funny?”

I laughed, “Oh, hell, yes. I want to be there when they put you up against some huge fucker with a black belt in something. That’s what they always do with the ladies, y’know. I want to watch his face change when he fully realizes just how much trouble he’s in.”

Marie’s expression turned flat.

“At the range,” I continued, “They’ll assume you’re rusty as hell and don’t know the new hardware. Here ya go, little lady. Now you just hold it like this…” I mimed showing her how to hold a pistol and said, “And then
you’ll
show
them
how to shoot. Oughta be fun.”

She gave me a little smile, then said, “That’s about how it was in ‘71. Someone told the instructor I’d never had weapons training. The idiot believed I’d been in the field two years without it.”

“Startled him, huh?”

Marie laughed, “Shocked him is more like it.”

“Think you could still tail someone?”

She grinned. “I can probably remember the basics.”

We talked about possibilities for another hour before Marie looked at her watch and said, “I guess I’d better get going.”

“That would sound more convincing if you were standing up.”

She rolled her eyes, stood up, and said it again, then asked, “How convincing was that?”

I stood up, too, and as if disappointed, sighed, “Better, I guess.”

Our goodbyes were quick, as was her hug at the door, and then she lifted away toward Ocala. I watched her go until she vanished in the night sky, then went back to the couch to check email and forum messages. That took the better part of another hour and left me feeling rather drowsy, so I wrapped up the evening and went to bed earlier than usual.

Chapter Fifteen

Sunday began at seven on the dot. A ping woke me and another ping sounded precisely five seconds later. Five seconds after that, another ping. I linked into the signal and found Marie using Tanya’s datapad. As her finger descended on the icon again, I sent a twelve-volt charge through the link that jumped from the pad and stung her finger.

Marie yelped and jerked her hand back, then glared at the screen and asked, “Does that mean you’re finally up?”

“It means I’m considering blocking Tanya’s pad. Unless there’s an emergency, my days start at
my
convenience. I’ll call you when I’m ready to fly.”

“When’ll that be?”

“Coffee, shave, breakfast, toothbrush. Email. It’ll take as long as it takes. If you’re in a hurry, have Tanya show you some tricks.”

“Skip the email and I’ll buy breakfast. Why can’t I see you? Is there a trick to making this thing work?”

“Yes, there is. You can’t see me because you undoubtedly look perfect and I look like I just woke up. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

I dropped the link and considered whether to try to get back to sleep. Nope. There’d been just enough chat and irritation to wake me fully, damn it. Might as well haul my ass out of bed.

Coffee, shave, toothbrush. Email, but I only checked for ebook orders. Seventeen messages later, I made a fresh coffee, grabbed my backpack, and stepped onto the front porch for a look at the day. Bright, sunny, already sixty, and getting warmer fast.

A neighbor’s rather pudgy semi-Siamese came trotting across the street. Instead of coming right up to me, he stopped near the oak tree and yowled a greeting. It seemed likely he’d developed that trait before I’d told the house field to let him come on the porch.

When I said, “Hi, there,” and patted the table, he trotted forward and hopped up to put himself within reach of attention.

Ruffling his chin, I put up a screen and pinged Marie.

She answered with, “Finally. At last. Where are you?”

“On my front porch. A friend dropped by.”

Turning the screen a bit to let Marie see the cat became unnecessary. The cat quickly sat up and leaned to see who or what was talking, then he moved forward to sniff the screen.

Marie looked back at me and asked rather flatly, “How long do you think that will take?”

“Well, I dunno, really. Sometimes he only stays a few minutes. Sometimes he sticks around for half an hour.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to stick around, does it?”

“He’s a regular visitor, ma’am. It won’t hurt to give him a few minutes, will it?”

Her gaze narrowed. “Is this really about making me come to you?”

“Nope. Breakfast here or there; doesn’t matter to me. If you’ll just stay put for a few, I’ll head up there as soon as ol’ Bugglebeast has had a dose of attention.”

“Bugglebeast? Wasn’t that your cat’s name in Landstuhl?”

“He was the landlady’s cat, but yes. I don’t know this one’s name, so I call him Bugglebeast.”

Eyeing the cat again, Marie remarked, “Well, he does kind of look the same, doesn’t he?”

“Yup. Fat, semi-Siamese, and rings in his tail.”

Bugglebeast lost interest in the screen and moved his head under my hand as a hint. I continued ruffling his chin and cheeks and he purred. Marie seemed unable to help a soft snicker.

“Well, he certainly seems to like you.”

“Most cats do. They can usually spot an easy mark.”

A few doors up the street, a woman stepped out of a house and called, “Ricky Ticky! Riiiickkkyyy!”

Bugglebeast’s ears flicked in her direction and he sat up. The woman called again and Bugglebeast’s ears showed his indecision. I ruffled his back near his tail and he stood up. That seemed to help him decide. He looked at me.

I said, “Yeah, go ahead. Your mama’s calling,” and gave him a last couple of pats as I stood up.

He took the hint and hopped down to hurry to the swale, where he paused to check the street before darting across.

“Huh,” said Marie, “He’s smarter than some people, isn’t he?”

Hefting my pack and calling up my board, I said, “Looks like it. At least I know his name now. Be there shortly.”

“See you then.”

She poked her ‘off’ icon and I launched toward Ocala. As I descended toward Tanya’s place, Marie flew up and angled east. I followed, taking a position on her right. Reaching behind herself, she took a small silver thermos from a net pocket on her pack, took a sip, and slipped it back into place by touch. I couldn’t help noting that her motions hadn’t affected her flight stability in the slightest.

We settled into the parking lot of an IHop restaurant and dismounted our boards between a couple of SUVs. Marie took a moment to check her hair in a side window, then she headed for the restaurant’s front doors at a brisk pace.

I followed at my own more sedate pace. She stopped about halfway to the doors and canted her head slightly with an impatient expression as she looked back at me. I ambled up and moved ahead to get the door for her.

She ordered a standard sort of breakfast. I ordered a chopped steak and greens. The waitress made no comment about my choice, but Marie did.

“Why not a regular breakfast?”

“Would you believe I turned kosher?”

“No. Never mind. What are you going to show me today?”

“Well, ma’am, I thought I might take you flying.”

Rolling her eyes, Marie retorted, “No shit?! Really?! Oh, gee, mister, I’ll try to contain my excitement!”

The waitress returned with a pot of coffee and two cups, said to let her know if we needed anything else, and left again.

Sipping coffee, I asked, “What did you think you’d hear, sweetie? We’re going to work with the boards, right? They fly, right?”

Her gaze narrowed. “Yeah, fine. Don’t call me ‘sweetie’.”

She sipped her own coffee, then reached for her thermos and filled it from the pot. When she’d finished, I topped up my travel mug.

We sat sipping in silence for some moments, then Marie sighed, “I’d forgotten what it was like, damn it. And
don’t
ask what I’m talking about.”

“Not asking, ma’am. You have my sympathies.”

She growled, “I’d rather have another Midol.”

“We don’t have to do this today.”

“I’d be like this no matter what I was doing.”

Marie seemed to sharpen her focus at something beyond the windows. I looked out and saw nothing unusual. A few squirrels cavorted near a tree across the parking lot.

Marie said softly, “I don’t need anybody’s sympathy, Ed. I couldn’t have seen those squirrels before. Not even before my accident. Well, not without my glasses, but even then I’d barely have been able to see them. My eyes were going bad and…” She sighed again, “And the arthritis made getting out of bed or getting up from a chair an ordeal. And there was… Never mind.”